Between Breaths Part II
by Synthwrr
Summary: It's the end of Hush. Tara and Willow find an attraction of mysterious sorts drawing them together again, and again. Unsure about where this is going, Willow struggles with her identity. NON-AU!
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

A blinding panic filled Tara's mind. Her hands shook around the redhead's small torso as they scrambled down the last few steps of Stevenson Hall, into the laundry room. She helped the other girl close the door behind them, feeling her arms tickle, somehow light but bereft, which juxtaposed oddly with the terror coursing through her veins.

Blackness crawled at the edges of her vision, and her side felt like it must be dripping copious amounts of blood. Of course it wasn't, but this is what she got for never exercising... She gasped, more leaning against the door than keeping it closed. The redhead grabbed her shoulder, and she felt that missingness drop away for a moment, turning to where Willow indicated-- a soda machine against the wall.

The girls strained against it, but it barely budged. Tara tried to forget the grinning faces of their pursuers, the flailing of the minions who had come so close to catching her-- the villains she'd set upon Willow, too. Willow, who came to her aid without thought... who now staggered away, falling against some dryers. She clutched her ankle, grimacing in pain, and then her eyes filled with resolve. She stared at the soda machine with something approaching hatred.

Tara looked from her to the great box, confused and then understanding, as the machine shook. _That thing's too big to move magically, unless she's really, really powerful..._ Willow sagged in defeat. _Apparently she isn't._

Tara looked at Willow's tumultuous expression. _Mother and I used to combine our powers... though it was very difficult. Maybe..._ She reached out and touched Willow's hand with her fingers, drawing away as it twitched. Willow looked down, and Tara tried again, feeling the world narrow as Willow's expression melted, fingers entwining with hers.

She felt a current through their palms, and the look in Willow's eye told her she felt it too. Still, the question must be asked, and Tara asked it, seeing Willow's anguish return in a heartbeat. She tried to reassure Willow with her eyes. _It will be alright. You can trust me._

Willow's answer came though in a burst of power and determination, and Tara's power came to meet it, entwining like their hands, _in_ their hands. The rush pulled Tara's hand's muscles tight, and a moment later Willow's followed, locking their hands together. Tara shifted her focus to the machine and felt Willow's power follow hers, and their heads turned at the same time.

The soda machine was light as a feather.

_Woah,_ Tara thought, wishing she could speak it. Willow caught her eye, and then looked at their entwined hands.

The power was still surging, and Tara found herself reluctant to withdraw that connection. Her power pushed against Willow's, and Willow's pushed back, squirming, but not uncomfortably. A hint of a smile appeared on Willow's face. She was enchanted by the rawness of it, Tara could tell. She was enchanted with what they could do-- what _she,_ Willow, could do.

Their breath came in gasps still, and suddenly Tara was aware of her body, the sweat dripping between her breasts and down her arms, the adrenaline rush, the-- now excess of-- oxygen, the endorphins pumping quick through her veins. She wasn't tired, not yet. Not anymore. Her power danced on Willow's, fleeting touches, drawing sparks. Green and purple, and white where they touched. Willow's retreated, drifting away, along sideways, and Tara's followed, playing along, till Willow's froze and then pounced, melding onto Tara's, spreading into a sheet and wrapping itself around.

The world fell away as the two witches focused on their entwined hands.

Tara met Willow at every point, denying Willow the opportunity of surrounding her, and they spread against each other. Tara let Willow play herself out, and then wrapped her excess around the side of Willow; Willow's eyes flashed as she realized that Tara had more than she did, that Tara had more leverage. She began retreating into herself, drawing back into a ball.

Then Tara broke Willow's skin where she surrounded it, mixing the green and purple in blinding light at that point. They gasped. Willow froze, and then expanded enthusiastically, wrapping around Tara, trying to figure out how she'd done it, trying to do the same. Tara made herself as small as she could at one of those places, waiting, and Willow finally broke her surface, collapsed in on her. Tara flowed into the glowing space, losing herself slowly in the radiance, blearily noting that as she entered, Willow thickened herself there too, flowing together now, until the glowing almost encompassed their beings. The other spot of penetration faded in the comparative glow, was drawn quickly to it--

The soft sound of a high-pitched scream broke the night's stillness.

Their mouths opened and welcomed their voices back. Their heads snapped up, hearing the sudden silence outside the door, then the sudden, wet explosions. Their hands dropped away from each other. Their eyes met, and then dropped too.

By the time they'd managed to move the soda machine, by hand this time, there was a commotion outside. A lot of people were yelling and hugging each other. Word-- delicious, beautiful sound-- had spread. The atmosphere was euphoric.

They made their way outside. With the exception of an occasional, loud passerby, the night was quiet. Crickets sang to the stars.

Neither said a word.

Ch 1

"Hey." Willow's voice was soft. She furrowed her brow and fidgeted with the phone cord. "This is Willow. So I was just thinking about you, and the telekinesis, and I found a spell in one of Giles' books—Giles, the one with all the, all the, uh, magic books? Anyway, it looked really pretty cool and, and with the whole 'you doing magic for a really long time' thing and stuff, I thought maybe we could look at it together? Sometime? Well, okay, when you get this message, could you call me back? Like, we could meet at that place, the Espresso Pump, next to the Magic Box. I thought…. Well, okay, so…. Yeah, bye!"

Willow dropped onto her bed, looking even more upset, her nervous energy fading rapidly. She hadn't slept well that night; the image of the boy lying next to her in bed, seeping blood, eyes glazed, stayed with her. She'd turned the light on twice, just to make sure—though she knew it was silly. The second time, Buffy'd stirred, and Willow lay as still and silent as she could, till she was sure the Slayer had gone back to sleep. She didn't want Buffy to worry about it.

She turned her frown to the door and sighed. Two classes today. For once, she was not really looking forward to Psychology. She wondered what Professor Walsh would say about the psychological impact of finding a dead man in bed with you—or, for that matter, being attacked by a vampire, or any of the crazy things that'd happened to her. _A vampiric doppelganger with a licking fetish, anybody?_ She snorted.

The door opened, and Buffy graced her with a sunny smile. "Hey, Will. What's so funny?"

"Just thinking about how psychologically scarred we all must be."

Buffy chortled, then shivered dramatically, dropping her toiletries on her bed. "Oh yeah, psych today. Psych is sick!" she quipped. Willow winced at the bad alliteration. "So anyway," Buffy sighed, her happy-face fading as she eased herself down, clutching her back. "The end of the world, huh? What do you think that demon wanted with the tomb-skeleton, anyway?"

Willow sighed. They'd already discussed this. "I dunno, Buffy. I guess… I guess we've just got to go research." Her mood darkened even more. Another day with the Scoobies, fighting to save the world. Or rather… frantically searching dusty books in ancient languages, hoping to find mention of the latest gooey demon. This _was_ why she was here, in Sunnydale… but sometimes….

"Woah, Will. You went all spacey on me." Buffy searched her face. "Is something wrong? Are you still upset about that Percy thing?"

Willow grimaced. She'd forgotten about that. "No, not really. Just broody today, I guess." She twisted her lip. "Sorry."

Buffy shook her head. "Hey, everybody gets that way sometimes. I've been pretty broody myself. My back hurt all night."

"Oh, gosh, Buffy. See? You've got so many good reasons to be broody. Like, demon breaking your back on a gravestone! What kind of reasons do I have? Like… nothing." Willow's face fell.

"Aw, c'mon, Will." Buffy stood. "Here, we'll go to Giles' and find out what this demon is, stop apocalypse, and then we can go… get ice cream or something. Anyway, books good! We'll have a research party." She smiled encouragingly. Willow returned the smile, less than enthusiastically.

At Giles', they all fell easily into research mode—except Xander, who didn't really _have_ a research mode, and Buffy, who was too pumped to sit still and into much pain to bounce around as usual. Willow and Giles, the usual suspects, settled down to pore through various demonology texts.

Willow was curled on one of Giles' sit-alones, flipping intently through "Blood, Symbols, and Spears: A Guide to Ancient Ritual." She abruptly stopped at a page, shot a glance up at Buffy, who was shifting impatiently with a dark look on her face, and dropped her eyes back to the text. "Rituals of Unseemly Nature." _Unseemly, as in what? More gross than the rest of this stuff? _She knew what it meant, but feigning innocence allowed her to continue reading.

A line caught her eye. "When two women found themselves without a man, they would sometimes—" She interrupted herself, eyes darting around the room before they were drawn inexorably back to the page "—make use of the rituals detailed in 'Arcane Revalatory and Kinetic Magicks, Chapter 6: Pairings Unconventional.'" She blushed furiously, the words "two women," "unseemly," and "Unconventional" connecting with a large exclamation point. Ms. Calendar owned that book, and Willow had it stashed in her and Buffy's closet. She couldn't bear to throw it in the trash where it belonged—and she couldn't give it to Giles, certainly—she couldn't imagine what a conversation about that book would involve, and didn't want to find out—so she kept it. But she never looked inside, after that first time. Those Gypsies had very colorful minds.

She covered her embarrassed fascination by shuddering and slamming the book shut. She got up and plopped down between Giles and Xander, looking over Xander's shoulder at the page he was blankly staring at, dragging her mind away from the disgusting, pornographic—and strangely interesting—monstrosity in her dorm closet.

_I wonder if Tara will call tonight,_ Willow thought as she hopped off the bus, Xander in tow. She'd checked her and Buffy's answering machine three times that day, to no avail. She sighed. _I guess Percy was right, I am a nerd. I can't even make a friend outside of the Scoobies._

"I can't believe Giles made me take that leech. Just because he didn't want him anymore? I mean, I have a girlfriend, too." Xander's voice was whiny. "And where's his girlfriend now? I guess having Spike in the house precludes telephone sex, too?" Xander followed her around the back side of the house.

"I'm sure it's only for a little while, Xand. I mean, Giles kept him for almost two months!" She let Xander open the back door, waited for him to stick his head inside and feel out the premises. He sighed in relief and gestured "All clear." Willow grinned at the reminder of their toy soldier days and followed him into the house.

"But I've already had him for more than a week. Do you have any idea what it's like to have his... his dark, brooding presence in the corner _every night_? I wake up with nightmares."

"Xander, you've had nightmares since you were three. Anyway, who do you want to take him? Buffy and I are dorming; I doubt the resident director would take kindly to a 'dark, brooding presence,' either."

Xander snorted, acknowledging her point. "What about the Initiative? I mean, all we'd have to do is let him loose, they'd scoop him up just fine."

"That's cruel. I mean, he-- he's like a poor little puppy. Anyway, he's not dangerous anymore. Who knows what they might do to him?"

Xander shrugged, and Willow opened the basement door. Spike was inside, standing, but falling, falling down... down on... "What are you _doing_?" Willow exclamed without thinking. _Is that a stake?_

As they exited the house, Spike grumbling about public transportation, her mind turned to Oz. _As if my day wasn't depressing enough_. She sighed for self-perpetuating blahs, remembering her turn in front of a speeding car right after Oz left… and that spell…

"Hey, Xander. You haven't seen Riley lately, have you?"

"Uh, no." They'd reached the bus stop. "Why?"

"Well… he just seems kind of… absent. Oh!" Her face cleared. "Buffy must be protecting him. Since he doesn't even know about the Slayer thing… let alone the looming Apocalypse... yeah."

"I guess." Xander didn't really like talking about Riley. "Yeah, save the poor wittle boy from the big baddies."

Willow ignored Xander's mood. "Although she hasn't talked about him, either. Which is strange. Maybe it will become a trend!" With that happy thought, she turned to look for the bus. And_ we're visiting a museum. C'mon, Will, this'll be a great day. Well, the rest of it._

_Not so great day,_ she thought, her shoulders drooping as she made her way out of the rubble. "It's kinda weird being back, isn't it?" Xander said.

Willow looked around. "Yeah. Everything seems so small-- and more charred and ruin-ey." _Like some other stuff I could mention. Well, at least the world didn't end. And look at Spike! Hello, Earth to Mr. Cheery…_

She sighed. That's what Oz always said. _Earth to Willow. This is Ground Control._ Then he'd smile and hold her closer. _What're you thinking about?_

Gosh, Oz…. What _am_ I thinking about? She decided she'd write another letter to him tonight. "This is what I have to say to you. You left me, and now I'm alone and I've got nobody, and I'm a nerd again and I can't make any new friends, and even Buffy doesn't want me. Well, not quite that, but she doesn't even tell me when her boyfriend's a commando dude with…. with sexy… little belt-pouch things, and even though Spike doesn't know anything, what he said is true. I'm useless here. Sitting, doing nothing as the world's about to end. When I should be writing my World Literatures paper. I'm useless kind of everywhere. Except with you, but even there I'm useless after a while, too. As you illustrated so succinctly."

She sighed. She couldn't commit those words to paper. _You don't wear self-pity well,_ she told herself firmly. She sighed again, this time for crazy birthday cake shirts. _You don't really wear anything very well. Why do you try?_

"Hey, Will," Xander said, smiling at her uncertainly. "You're coming back to my place, right? There's a Xena re-run marathon tonight."

Willow mentally shook herself and smiled at Xander. "Yeah, that'd be great." _Xander. I wear him well_. "Thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Willow!" Tara waved from across the street. A car beeped as Willow waved frantically back, grinning so hard she felt like her face might break in half. She gestured invitingly toward the signal at the end of the block.

They met halfway across the crosswalk. "Hey, Tara!" The redhead's body was practically dancing, like a puppy's. "What's up? How are you? It's been a while!"

"I'm fine." Tara retreated behind the curtain of her bleached-blond hair. "I'm s-sorry I didn't call you yesterday. Um, I had a really b-b-busy day."

"Well, that's okay, I did too, so... it's okay." Willow smirked. "Actually, kind of an interesting story there, these big demon-things... um, Vahrall demons, with big spikeyness of the head and greeny, they were all for destroying the world. But no biggie, Buffy stopped it before it... happened. Which should be obvious," she noted, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

Tara hadn't really heard the last part. Her eyes were wide. "Wait... the world almost ended y-y-yesterday?"

"Well, yeah. Kind of. But no biggie, like I said..." Willow drifted off, noticing the look on Tara's face. "Oh, god, I wasn't thinking. This must sound totally wacko to you. I just thought... you know, with the witchyness, and..." She gestured helplessly. "But, you know, Apocalypse, I should be more sensitive! Gosh, what am I doing? What am I even saying? I'm such a dummy!"

Watching Willow beat herself up distracted Tara from being shy. "No, really Willow, it's okay." They sat at the table Willow'd staked out a full half-hour before their meeting-time. "I know with the Slayer as a best friend, it must be... really intense. So much that... the, the end of the world might not seem like such a big deal."

Willow looked deep in her eyes. "Well, if it ended, of course, big deal. But since it didn't... I don't know, I was just kind of busy beating..." She interrupted herself, realizing that she probably shouldn't go on the self-pity moping drag with a girl she'd barely known a week. "Beating all those nasty demons up! Yup, that's me." She grinned, noticing how deep Tara's eyes were. Then she realized what a misleading, and potentially damaging, cover-up she'd made.

"Well, actually, that's not me. Mostly I just stand in the corner. And do research, which, well, I'm not-- darn! Why do I keep saying 'well?' I don't usually say 'well' this often. In fact, only rarely do I say 'well.'" She shook her head and changed tack. "Well, I guess I do now. My daily average is increasing by the moment!" Something about this idea made her feel a little panicked.

Tara giggled. Willow, relaxing a little, tried to explain herself. "I guess today's just a 'well' day. Not that days become certain kinds just because of me! Maybe it's just I'm 'well'-girl," she concluded, a bit decisively and mostly nonsensically. She realized that she really enjoyed hearing Tara's laugh. _Got to make her do that again. ASAP._

"Well, wells are good. They make water, which is, um, essential to life," Tara informed Willow, her eyes dancing.

"Yeah!" Willow agreed enthusiastically, Tara's eyes drawing her in. "That's so... Yeah." She grinned again, staring at Tara.

There was no talking for a moment. Then Willow sighed and looked down. "So. What were _you_ doing yesterday?" Her eyes flicked up to Tara's again, and she noticed how small the Espresso Pump tables were. Their knees were almost touching.

Tara half-smiled and shifted in her seat. Willow realized that she'd been able to feel the warmth of Tara's leg on her knee. Now, not so much. She was disappointed.

"I just... I have an internship, and so I was helping with that, and then a class, and then I had to work my shift at my job. Actually, overtime there."

"Wow." It was Willow's turn to be impressed. She was still a little jittery. "How late'd you work?"

"Eleven." Tara twisted her lip. "And I started with the internship at 8 in the morning."

Willow started to feel indignant. "Is that legal?" Her eyes widened. "Wait, you called me at 8 this morning, too... How..." Her brain found a new track. "How'd you land an internship as a freshman? I was totally trying to get one, but they kept telling me, 'No, you're a freshman.' Ugh."

Tara was embarrassed. She avoided Willow's gaze. "Um, I guess I got into a correspondence with one of the members of the team a few years ago, so he helped me get it. I kind of... need the money."

"Oh," Willow deflated, impressed at her new friend's prowess. "I corresponded with a bunch of programmers in high school, but... None of them work here."

Tara ventured a glance at Willow. "The internship is the reason I went here."

"Oh," Willow returned. She looked up. "What is it? I mean, what kind of research?"

"Archeology." There was a pause. "Kind of. How much do you know about that field?"

Willow sat up straighter, feeling the need to prove herself. She was feeling a bit outshone. But then she slumped again. "Not really very much at all. I read a little about it, but it was kind of... dry?" She tried to twist her face into an expression that said, "No offense."

Tara nodded, not surprised. "Yeah, most people think it is. Especially my work. But I really like it. It ties in with... the magic."

Willow nodded, her eyes brightening. _This_ was something she knew about. "Oh, yeah. Definitely, I mean, I can totally see how that would. With the... ancient peoples... magic... rituals... yeah." She sighed abruptly and started actively forgetting "Arcane Revelatory and Kinetic Magicks."

"Yeah. It's actually pretty interesting, t-t-there's very little evidence that modern Wicca has any relation to the Celtic religions that the f-founder of Wicca claims it's based on." Tara looked at Willow earnestly.

Willow twisted her lip. "Okay, everybody keeps saying that. Well, Giles keeps saying that. But honestly, I don't see how that makes a difference? The magic works... I don't just tap into Wicca, I tap into, you know... The gods and goddesses of old, the essence of the world, the two halves of the one..."

"Or maybe just your, um, innate abilities?" Tara's eyes were teasing again.

"Maybe," Willow conceded, a brilliant image flashing before her, of two pieces of energy, purple and green, dancing together. "But then why the chanting? Why won't it work without... the names?"

"It worked last week, without any names at all," Tara pointed out. She looked down. "Mother always said that it didn't matter who you invoked, as long as you believed in it-- as long as you believed that it would help focus your power. Like, um, like wands." Willow noticed, with a flash of pride, that she was no longer stuttering.

"Never use them, myself," Willow stated, filling the space.

"I always invoke the goddesses, though. It makes me more... comfortable."

"Yeah," Willow said, catching Tara's eyes and holding them. "Me too."

"That-- That thing with the powers, the colors, playing with each other, last week... I've never done anything like that before. Or read about it, or anything." Tara didn't look down this time, Willow did.

"Me neither. I keep kind of wondering about it. But, really busy with the school and all!" Willow was blushing. She ducked under the table, her voice floating up. "Speaking of, check this out." She emerged with a grunt, offering a folder up. "This is my 'Book of the Wilde Ones,'" she said proudly.

Tara took the folder, wondering. She opened it and stared at the neatly-hole-punched contents. "'Book?'"

"Yeah!" Willow caught on. "Oh. Well, you know, those Wicca... with the whole, 'This book is a family heirloom! How could you even _consider_ asking me to lend it to you!' Anyway, I wanted a full copy myself."

"You copied it in a copy machine."

"Yeah." Willow was unfazed. "That's Part 3. The page with the spell on it is sticky-ed."

Tara shook her head and found the spot. Her eyes flicked up. "Do you want me to read it?"

"Do you want to? I can summarize."

"Okay." Tara waited.

Willow blanked. "Okay! Well, um..." She sighed, willing the spell to come to her. "Yes. The spell is for fairies. It, um... You know how fairies are all around us, all the time? But we can't really see them? Only, sometimes, with some people, they can." Her eyes flickered. "Have you ever seen a fairy?"

Tara shook her head. "Once I thought I might have. But I didn't get a good look, and he didn't stay around to let me."

"I think I have, too. But, I mean, they must have sort of... revealed themselves to us. You know? Because they're really everywhere. I mean, there's probably a salt-shaker fairy sitting right here." She indicated the salt shaker on the table. Then she suddenly looked cagrined. "I'm sorry, salt-shaker fairy. I didn't mean to violate your space. Or to talk about you in your presence. That was rude." Tara looked at her, amused, as Willow continued, getting warmed up. "Although _I_ think it's pretty rude how you just sit there and listen in on other people's conversations. If you showed yourself, we'd be less likely to forget you're around!"

Tara's amusement blossomed into a full smile. Willow looked up at her, irate, but at the sight of Tara's grin her anger melted into a pleasant glow-ey feeling. "Sorry," she offered weakly, a bit overcome.

"That was... really interesing." Tara narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. "Do you do that a lot?"

"I was babbling," Willow informed her idiotically. Then she blushed again. "I don't know, I guess. Sometimes Xander's like, 'Will, slow down, you've stopped saying real words.'"

Tara nodded seriously. "Okay, so the spell?"

"The spell. So the spell... We have to be in a kind of isolated spot, I think the wood would do, or somewhere out of the town limits. That way the fairies know there's little chance of anybody walking in on us." Willow was explaining intently, using her shoulders and hands. "We invoke the woodland godess Artemis and ask her to send her little creatures to us. Hopefully that won't be too many, because then we have to kind of... gain their trust. The spell's unclear about that part. Also, should draw a few animals as well."

Willow's gaze was intense. "And then they'll show themselves to us. Maybe even show us some of their secrets. It should be really cool."

Tara nodded. Willow said, "So, when do you have to go? Could we do it right now?"

"I think so. I've got--" she checked her watch "-- till 4. I have a class then."

"Okay, plenty of time then! So, the woods or the grassland?" Willow stood, gathered her folder up, and put it in her bag. She led Tara to the street, working out the physical details of the spell.

Behind them on the table, a glimmer showed. Above the salt shaker, a small face appeared, and then dainty legs perched lightly on the rounded top surface. Wings fluttered.


	3. Chapter 3

The grass rustled. The air was cool, strange for Sunnydale in the early afternoon. Willow and Tara sat side-by-side on Willow's blanket. The sun glinted on Tara's hair, turning it to a burning silver. Willow stared at it when she wasn't looking.

She was staring now, because Tara's eyes were closed, listening.

"And may those who most yearn for visibility... find it?"

"What about, 'be seen?' It wouldn't be too redundant." Tara's eyes flickered open, and Willow's jumped down to meet them.

Willow grinned widely, feeling a shot of dark excitement, almost guilt, run through her. "Yeah, yeah, that's perfect. 'May those who most yearn for visibility _be seen_." She bent over the notebook before her, and her voice floated up, unhampered by her furious scribbling. "I've never cast with anybody who had such a grasp of the, the... word-smithyness of it. Well, I mean, I haven't really cast with many people at all. Like, three. And one was a former vengeance demon, so I don't... I don't even know if that counts as a person," she concluded, looking back up. She noted with some discomfiture that Tara didn't seem to have been looking at her. She'd been looking somewhere under Willow's chin. Fazed out? Surely she'd been listening?

"A vengeance demon? Wha-What's that?"

_Ah. She was preoccupied with the obscure reference. Willow, stop doing that._ "It's like... I don't know, a demon. She looks human most of the time, though. Actually, she hangs out with us a lot; she's kind of going out with my friend Xander. Not sure if 'going out' is the proper term, but yeah, she... does stuff with him." She shuddered. "And she's not a vengence demon _anymore,_" she tacked on.

"Okay, so now... the conclusion?" To Willow's vigorous nod, Tara offered an idea. "Something like, 'This we ask, offering these minds as vessels of... What?" The red hair and green eyes attached by creamy smooth skin, sensitive facilities, soft lips, were staring at her unsubtly. Even the lips were staring.

The features gathered themselves together. "You write spells like... like poetry."

"Well..." Tara considered. "Actually, I'm not used to, um, 'writing' spells. More like, just... _spelling_ them. Or, casting them, I guess is the word?

"No writing down?" Willow was puzzled.

"Not really."

"Then how do you memorize them?"

"I don't. I mean, Mother and I just... said what we had to say, and it came out alright. And if it didn't, we just tried again."

"Oh." Willow considered. "Do you want to do that now?"

"Well, I thought we could do it your way. This time?" Tara peered at Willow from behind her hair.

Willow was dubious. "I wish you'd said something before. Though I don't know how good I'd be at... that."

"We could practice, you know, later?" Tara's voice held something that Willow couldn't identify.

"Okay," Willow smiled. _She wants to see me again. _"That sounds good."

Tara met her smile.

"So, okay, from the top?" Tara nodded in response. "For real, or...?"

"For real," Tara confirmed. Both of the girls' spines straightened a little, and suddenly they weren't just kids writing a strange poem to a long-lost goddess. They were witches.

"Artemis, goddess of the earth and forest, most fruitful, hear us." Willow's voice was steady, serious. Her eyes drifted closed.

Tara had to glance at the paper. "We come to you with pure hearts, with single purpose. This we ask..." Willow joined her here, and their voices made an echoing sound. "That you bring your smallest disciples to us, in trusting spirit. As we trust, so shall they. As we trust, so shall they."

The magic started to surge, and Willow felt Tara. It was tiny foothold in Tara's mind, but enough to unify them, enough to draw Willow's magic into shape. She willed it to disperse, not ready to face the questions the first time had raised-- not willing to wait another week to see Tara, to let the idea of it to expend itself like a guilty wave, recede into the back of her mind and fester. She was scared of it. She pushed it away.

She finished the spell alone, her voice shaking. "And may those who most yearn for visibility be seen. This we ask, offering these minds as vessels of... your work."

Their eyes opened, and Tara smiled proudly at Willow. Willow felt her chest fill with warmth. _See? I _can_ wing it_.

The magic pulsed around them, separate from theirs, unthreatening. It snaked through the dry grasses and into the sky, humming softly, full of intention. The witches sat patiently, silently.

Finally, a whisper stole through the clearing. There were five now, instead of two. The five whispered to themselves... to part of their unit, to the humans, the witches. They said, _You are vessels of our work. You trust, O vessel of our work. Do our work._

Willow realized suddenly that they weren't talking to her. They wanted nothing of her. She focused on Tara's face. Genuine pain was written all over it, and Tara was shaking. Willow wondered when her foot had slipped, when the foothold had crumbled. She couldn't feel Tara anymore.

Then Tara shook her head, once, emphatically. _You trust,_ the fairies tried again, from far away. _She trusts. Our work would be done. It is the will of the goddess._

Tara opened her eyes wide, and said clearly, "Show yourselves."

_Not until..._

"You know my answer. Now show yourselves."

Three clouds of color coalesced, a few feet before Tara's face. _Your refusal is incomprehensible._

"Why aren't they totally visible?" Willow interjected. Tara turned to her, surprised. _She forgot about me,_ Willow thought with a sinking feeling.

"They aren't? Visible?" Tara was confused.

_We will not show ourselves to the impure one._ The fairies' tone hinted at anger.

"Impure?" Willow squeaked.

Tara's eyes as they met Willow's were sympathetic. She paused, then asked softly, "Are you a virgin?"

Willow's eyes widened. She shook her head numbly. Tara didn't even try to smile; she simply turned back to the fairies. "She is pure."

_She has just admitted that she is not._

Willow felt like crying. "My..." She choked, and then tried again. "My _heart_ is... pure."

The fairies flickered, in indecision or anger, Willow couldn't tell. Tara relaxed, her face becoming calm. She spoke. "Feel her. Feel her magic, her essence... She is what she says."

The fairies radiated indecisiveness. Tara tilted her head, and then said, "Feel this." She turned to Willow slowly, and Willow forgot all about the fairies, about their judgment and insult. She dove into Tara's eyes, losing herself in the look. It was the most incredibly intimate thing she'd ever done, and she wondered vaguely if this was only happening because Tara was virtually a stranger.

Tara raised her arm, offering her hand to Willow. Willow felt the gesture like a magnet, like a warm safe place, sanctuary offered in Tara's hand. As she raised her hand to meet Tara's, she wondered when this magic would go away. Would it take another day with Tara? Or a week, or a month? She wondered how she could ration herself on this feeling, when she was so hungry for it. When she soaked Tara in like a dry sponge. She felt her fingers on Tara's-- water in the sponge. She expanded under Tara's gaze.

How could she ration herself on something that she felt such insatiable hunger for?

Suddenly she became aware of a tiny purple face hovering quite near hers. She jerked away from Tara, even scooting back half a foot. There were other faces, too-- not just three, but perhaps a dozen. More amazingly, there were bodies attached to the faces. Many looked puzzled, but there was wonderment in all of them. They fluttered around the pair, making soft butterfly noises.

Willow felt her mind fill with questions, with a need to speak. She didn't know what she would say.

She opened her mouth anyway, but Tara smiled at her again, eyes bright. The smile said, _You don't have to say anything._ Or maybe it was the magic that told her that? Tara's magic. She felt a deep peace settle upon her.

The witches spent the next hour laying on their backs watching the clouds and reveling in the sensation of tiny fairy bodies dancing on theirs, curling softly in the nooks between their hips and arms, playing tag, peeking from behind their ears and fluttering their wings against their necks. After the hour lapsed, Tara stirred herself from a half-sleep and sat up.

She only realized then that her and Willow's hands had been entwined. Her heart ached to leave. She looked down at Willow, whose eyes were still drowsy.

"You gotta go now?" Her voice sounded like a child's.

"Yeah," Tara whispered.

"I'm going with you," Willow informed her, sitting up too. Her hand shifted in Tara's grip, and Tara squeezed it tightly, then released and stood.

"You should stay here. They really like you."

"Don't wanna."

So Tara consented to Willow's escorting her on-campus. Before they parted, Willow extracted a promise to meet on the next Sunday, in the place they said their goodbyes. It was under a sycamore tree.

After Tara left, Willow looked up into the tree's leaves. The sun streamed through them, looking glorious in their shedding dust, beams coming down to the ground and painting an everchanging collage.


	4. Chapter 4

Willow was in a white place. It was heaven, but Willow did not feel content. She was searching for something, and she couldn't find it. The frustration compounded with her urgency, and resulted in something near full-blown panic. Willow was in heaven, and panicking.

Finally, she looked around a billowing cloud and her panic evaporated. There it was-- the thing she was looking for. It had sort of fluttery whitish hair, and green eyes that smiled at her. And lips, too, and cheeks and a beautiful chin. And a body. One that she looked at, now, and it was naked and beautiful, too.

She approached the angel, and breathed deep her scent. Their eyes locked.

Movement flashed and they were together, in nakedness, bodies moulded, breasts and lips pressing, insistently, and she was touching, they were touching, and all along the skin tingled and burned, and then Willow's body was around this angel's, and the angel was in her, and Willow couldn't breathe, couldn't see, and she didn't know what they did, or how they did it, but she knew what it was and it was good, better than good, and she was moaning and thrusting and it was perfect, it was what she needed, and she couldn't say anything but she didn't want it to end, didn't want to tip over the edge, couldn't... couldn't...

She woke up with the aftershocks still trembling down her legs and in her stomach.

"Hey, Buff," Willow said around her toothbrush. The door closed behind Buffy, and she took the place next to Willow in the dorm bathroom. A toilet flushed behind them.

"Good morning," Buffy said brightly. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good." Willow spit and wiped the drool off her chin. "I had a dream that I don't really remember very well. I think I was looking for something." She pondered a moment. "Oh, and also, do you have a pad I could borrow?"

Buffy laughed. "Sure, but please don't give it back."

Willow put her foot down as the bike rolled to a stop. She unclipped her helmet and bent to lock the bike up. Then she looked back up, checking to see if the scene had changed in the last 20 seconds. Checking for Tara.

So such beast, though. She sighed, her chest tight with anticipation and anxiety, checking her watch. _Three fourty. I really should stop being such a spaz. _Her mind drifted as she went to sit under the tree, her movements slightly more careful and measured than usual. This was how she moved before Oz. This was the introverted Willow, the one who started to get out of the way instantly when Buffy approached her. The one before Slayage, before... When she was still a virgin. Pure.

Her eyes shut tightly. There was still a phantom of hurt from the fairies' judgment of her, however accurate. She wasn't as fit as Tara for that portion of magic. For the part that involved sacrificing virgins, to Artemis no less. She chuckled, her mood shifting abruptly. It wasn't like Artemis would ever take a virgin sacrifice, anyway. Animal sacrifices, maybe. Human sacrifice was more the domain of, say, Hera. Definitely.

She heard a soft step before her, and looked up to see Tara. Tara's boobs, actually. Her blue shirt was long-sleeved and stretched over her chest like a "Look at me" sign. _In perv-speak, maybe... _She tore her eyes away forcibly, dragging them up to meet Tara's eyes. Finding that was actually better.

"Hey," she greeted softly.

"You were laughing?" Tara sat down gracefully, her hair rearranging itself smoothly, along with all her limbs.

"Oh, yeah." Willow blinked, trying to shift focus. "Just thinking about... Nevermind. It's pretty stupid."

"No, tell me." Tara's voice was sincere, and her eyes looked like a doe's-- not while it was spooked, but while it was calm, at rest. A little mournful.

"You'll think I'm a nerd."

Half of Tara's mouth curved upward, and her eyes sparkled. Willow found the expression mesmerizing. "Willow, nerds always have the best, um, jokes."

Willow shook her head. "Everybody laughs _at_ nerds. Nobody talks to them." Her eyebrows raised, and her voice gained in volume. "And I'm not a nerd anymore, either!" She deflated. "So I don't talk about nerd things."

"You're actually worried I'll think you're a n-nerd? Do-do-do you know..." Tara shook her head, trying to find the words. "I didn't speak a word at school f-for all of sixth grade."

Willow's face was worried. "Well, that was sixth grade. A long time ago."

"T-t-that was just an ex-xample."

"Oh." Willow pondered this information. Then she focused back on Tara. "I'm usually not so preoccupied, you know. Normally I'd just be like, 'Oh, I was thinking about Artemis and virgin sacrifices, la de dah.' But the thing is, the other day, I was kind of at a party alone and this guy I knew-- What is it?"

Tara's face had darkened, and she'd started blushing hotly. She shook her head, hiding behind her hair. "Nothing" drifted out.

"Was it about being at a party alone? I was kind of meeting Buffy, but she didn't show..."

"No." Tara peeked, cheeks flaming, and then retreated again. "Keep going. Did the guy, um, say something to you?"

"Uh, yeah." Willow considered pushing it, but decided against it. If Tara wanted to tell her, she would have. "Well, not _to_ me. He was talking to his girlfriend, I guess, after he ran into me, and he was like, 'Oh, that's just Willow, she's a nerd.'" Her lip twisted.

"Was she upset about him talking to you?"

Willow tilted her head, pleased to have caught Tara's eye again. "Yeah, well she was. But... But still."

"Sometimes people say the stupidest things, betray their friends, when they're under pressure. He probably didn't mean it." Tara looked at Willow, held her gaze like she did in the meadow. Willow felt her stomach make strange swoopings. "Also, there's nothing wrong with being a nerd. Nerds rule the world." Her half-smile emerged again, at using such a strange turn of phrase.

Willow grinned back, reassured. The Scoobies hadn't said anything so comforting. When she'd first talked about it, she'd felt their preoccupation with the real event of the evening, the ritual bloodletting, and she didn't really blame them for that. But after that, it didn't seem appropriate to talk about it. And something in her recognized the fact that they didn't really understand, and never could, not even Xander.

She focused on Tara, and her smile blossomed again.

"S-so, what do you want to do t-today?"

Willow shifted toward Tara unconsciously. "Well, I've been thinking about it. Do you wa-- I mean, I kind of thought--" _that maybe we could go get ice cream. After we could go to the Bronze, and I could ask you to dance..._ "Do you want to cast another spell or something?"

Tara's smile flickered, and then she nodded vigorously. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Do _you_ have... a spell you'd like to do?" Willow looked at Tara uncertainly. The question had sounded less pushy in her head. "I mean, I've got some I'd like to do, like for example, this floating rose spell, very cool, but I thought since _last_ time we did one of my spells..."

"Okay. Not a spell, though... something better." Tara tipped her head. "Want to come to my dorm?"

"Yeah, okay." Willow covered the shivery excitement inside by getting to her feet. "Can I just go get my bike? It's over there."

"You have a bike? Me too."

Willow mirrored Tara's surprise. "Hey, weird. How come you didn't ride it the other day?"

Tara was on her feet, and started moving toward the bike rack. "I knew we were only meeting there, and..." she shot a look at Willow, "I assumed you didn't have one."

"Me too. I assumed too."

Tara didn't reply, and Willow saw she was unlocking her bike. She hurried over to hers and followed suit.

"So follow me?" Tara was on her bike.

Willow awkardly backed hers up. "Yeah."

They wove through the foot traffic, finally arriving at a dorm on the north side of campus. They locked up the bikes and Willow followed her up the steps, through the huge glass door, and up one floor through the stairwell. Tara stopped at the second door down, smiling shyly at Willow as she fumbled for her key.

"I have-- have a d-d-double," she stumbled over her words, inviting Willow in awkwardly. Willow stopped in the doorway, looking around. The window was open and light from outside streamed in, somehow enhancing the sense of mystery in the room. The furnishings were standard, but Tara had bought some light rugs and paintings and arranged them along the walls and up on what Willow assumed was the other bed. It had been converted into more of a couch, with intricately designed coverlets on it and even some pillows. The space was almost exquisitely clean, like a temple.

"M-my roommate left after two weeks, went back home. I- I guess they don't offer empty spots to other people halfway through the year."

Willow smiled softly as she moved into the room. "It must be kinda lonely."

Tara shrugged, closing the door and leaning against it. "I'm p-pretty used to it. I like it better than where I lived before, with my family."

Willow noted with interest that she avoided the word "home." "Where was that?"

"Oh. South an hour's drive, about. A little town, with horses and all that. It was, um, nice."

Willow raised her eyebrows. "It was nice, but this is better?"

"I mean, the town was. Nice. My house was... n-n-not." She pushed off the door, avoiding Willow's gaze, moving to her bed and sitting cross-legged on it. "What about you? Where are you from?"

"Right here in Sunnydale. It's funny, I live in the dorms, but my house is only like a twenty-minute drive away from here. My parents insisted on giving me the 'full college experience.'" Her lip twisted, but she was smiling. "I would visit them, but they're never home." The smile faded somewhat.

"I'm sorry." Tara's voice was sincere.

Willow wondered what her home was like. _I shouldn't even complain._ "I mean, they love me and everything, and I love them too, but... I guess you could say my friends are more of a family than they are."

Tara nodded, dropping her eyes. Willow tilted her head, considering. "So what was it that you wanted to do?"

"Oh. Um, sit down." Tara indicated next to her on the bed. Willow complied. "Spells are part of being a witch, but so is... like, mental and spiritual energy. And casting spells is a way to funnel that energy, but if one continually drains it, it starts hurting. Even when you're not casting, too, it's important to keep the energy... balanced."

Willow nodded, drinking the information in. Ms. Calendar's books hadn't said much about this, and Willow suspected that had to do with the "techno" part of her brand of wizardry. Ms. Calendar's coven were more involved in the technology aspects of spellcasting, and less with the spiritual wellbeing of the spellcaster. Willow had never considered that a shortcoming, but now she reconsidered.

"S-so, Mother and I used to do some exercises to... b-balance that energy." Tara took a deep breath. "Here. Can you feel the pulse of this room, this building?"

Willow frowned, but Tara's eyes were already closed. She closed hers and tried to find the "pulse." _Nothing._ After a minute, Tara spoke again. "Sometimes it's easier to find it by way of comparison. Another, different pulse is outside, and it comes in a little through the window. Can you feel the difference?"

Willow opened her eyes a little and looked at the window. There _was_ a different... feel to the... energy there. _A pulse, though? That implies rhythm._ She tried to see the rhythm of the outside, versus the inside.

"You can't see it, Willow. It's easier to feel with your eyes closed."

Willow shot a look at Tara, whose eyes remained closed. A little mystified, she obeyed Tara's instructions again, but now her mind was full of questions and she didn't feel any energy at all, except from herself.

The weight on the bed suddenly shifted, and Tara whispered, "Stand up." Willow opened her eyes to see Tara upright in front of her, hands out, eyes calm. Willow stood and took Tara's hands, a jolt running down her arms. They were warm and felt like, well, the appropriate place for Willow's, as if Willow's hands were unhappily suspended in an almost painfully dull place at all times, unknowing, but when Tara took them in hers they became alive, and lived like they'd never before.

Willow suddenly wanted to bring her whole body close to Tara's, make her whole body feel what her hands felt. She knew that the idea was socially questionable, however, and so resisted.

Tara squeezed her hand, once, softly. "This is the pulse of this room." She squeezed again, waited, and then again. Willow concentrated on the rhythm, closing her eyes, trying to tune in to what Tara felt. Gradually, she started feeling it, but... something was different. It was the same rhythm, but... She squeezed Tara's other hand to the pulses _she_ felt.

They were the offbeats to Tara's.

Willow opened her eyes to see Tara smiling at her. Then Tara released her hands, and Willow's fell to her sides as surprise flicked across her face. "Hold on to the rhythm. This is what Mother and I did."

Tara slowly began dancing, some sort of Celtic dance, sort of serene but with a certain power to it, and grace unimaginable. Willow found the rhythm again, and saw how Tara was dancing to it, skirt flowing and drifting, hands making shapes. She wasn't even aware of the wondering smile on her face until Tara beckoned to her, taking her hands again and whirling her in. Their hands met and shifted, and their feet did too, Willow trying to mimic Tara's moves until Tara shifted styles and Willow realized that it didn't really make a difference _what_ they were dancing.

That was the last conscious thought Willow had for a time, until she suddenly tuned into the pulse from outside and shifted into that, still aware of the room's pulse but ignoring it. Tara was confused for a moment, and then she realized what Willow had done and shifted too, smiling approvingly at Willow. After a time, they shifted back, and then shifted again.

Finally, Tara slowed the dance down and Willow realized how frentic it had gotten, how exhausted she was now. But instead of pulling away, Tara put her arms around Willow's waist and held her. Willow melted into her, wrapping her arms around Tara's shoulders and resting her head against the side of Tara's, thinking, _Yeah, it's the same as with the hands. How does she do this? _Then she remembered her earlier wish, to take Tara to a club and dance. _So much better than the Bronze._

They stayed that way for a long time, swaying to the room's rhythm.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch 5: A New Man/"Much Ado About Something"

"And then he picked up my radio! _And_ he was criticizing my basement-smell. Let me tell you, if that... that _beast_ ever needs a home again, there's no way in _hell_ he's staying with me." Xander punctuated his pronouncement with a grand gesture as the bus rolled to a stop.

Willow nodded, making a serious face. "Hear, hear!" she agreed, getting up to let Xander out of the window seat. A girl with raven-black hair and porcelain skin followed her movement with her eyes. "Hey, listen, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah." Xander paused, drawing annoyed looks from some passengers. "You sure you don't want to come hang out?"

Willow nodded. "I've got a big paper to write," she lied. Well, it was true about the paper-- but she'd already written it. She had other, grand plans for the evening.

She watched the streetlamps go past through the bus window. Behind her on the bus, the girl stared at her, unnoticed.

_I'll go down on my knee and give it to her,_ Willow thought, a thrill of excitement and anxiety rushing through her as she exited the bus, moving toward the supermarket a block away from UC Sunnydale. Still unnoticed, the black--haired girl followed her.

Willow turned over abuptly, opening her eyes. _7:30. Class at 10. _Why_ am I awake?_

She sighed, realizing she wasn't going to be able to sleep again. _Should take a shower._ She crept quietly around the dorm, gathering soap and clothes. Buffy was snoring softly, head thrown back and arms tangled in the sheets.

The hallway was empty, as was the bathroom. The cold stung her bare feet, but the water was steaming and for a few minutes, she just stood in the flow, letting it burn her skin. _We're painting the rose... that blew its top,_ she thought randomly, and snorted, humor bubbling abruptly. _Some awesome spell, Rosenberg._

When she finally emerged it was closer to 8. When she opened the door, she heard something far down in the corridor, and when she looked, she found she wasn't the only one who'd taken an early shower. A girl was struggling with her key, her hair wrapped in a towel... bathrobe ending right under her butt. Her legs stretched to infinity, and so did the moment Willow stood, staring at her.

Then she snapped out of it and walked the opposite direction, to lie reading in her bed until Buffy woke up, an hour later.

Willow trotted along a narrow path toward the place she and Tara had planned to meet. It was a nice little bench next to a stand of cyprus trees, and very private; she and Tara were going to try the rose-floating spell again, somewhere other than Tara's dorm. Willow felt guilty that she hadn't offered her dorm, but the possibility of Buffy walking in was too great. Willow didn't want Buffy to see Tara.

_I am not jealous_, Willow thought to herself, and then she looked up and saw the meeting-bench, and beyond that, coming the opposite way, was Tara. With a man.

Her heart turned cold. Tara was laughing with the man, relaxed as Willow had never seen her. The man put his shoulders into a little dance, his thumbs hooked on the straps of his backpack, and said something else. Tara laughed harder.

_I am not jealous,_ Willow thought again. Tara looked up and saw Willow, smiled at her, and turned to the man. They stopped in the path, very close together, and exchanged a few words. Then the man turned and walked the other way, throwing something over his shoulder. Tara looked after him.

Willow's legs felt wooden as she walked the last few steps to the bench. Her heart was made of lead-- no, stone-- no, it must be iridium. _Iridium is the densest substance. _Tara approached.

Willow summoned a smile. "Sooo... who's that?" She couldn't stop the question, but she tried to make her tone as flippant as she could. As it should be. "Your boyfriend?" she tacked on, struggling to keep her smile in place and shifting uncomfortably.

Tara smiled in greeting, and then frowned to the question. "Um, his name is Brandon. He... We work together. He's a grad s-student, in charge of the project basically."

_Those grads get all the girls._ "He's pretty cute," Willow commented, sitting down with gusto. Her heart had gotten over the gold stage and now felt like it was being impaled by many small needles.

Tara followed, more slowly. "I suppose. I, um... don't really notice?"

"You guys were pretty snuggly," Willow noted, realizing she was pushing it but not caring.

Tara stared away, and something appeared in her face that Willow hadn't ever seen before. She turned to Willow, and her eyes meeting Willow's sent a chill through her. "There's something about me that you sh-sh-should know. I, um..." The look flickered out of her eyes, and she broke eye contact, breathing out in frustration. "How do I say this?" She looked back at Willow, who was still, uncomprehending-- working hard not to understand.

"I'm a lesbian," she said. Willow sat back abruptly, swallowing, looking away. Her eyes watered.

"Oh," Willow managed.

"I- I hope that doesn't mean we c-can't still be, um," Tara paused, but stuttered over the next word anyway, "f-f-friends?"

Willow suddenly needed to be alone. She couldn't process this, couldn't understand that this witch, with soft eyes and soft hands _loves women. Tara loves women._ As she thought this, a tremor passed through her body. _What does that mean for _us_?_

Her breath caught in her throat. "N-no. It's okay, I mean," she blinked her eyes. "It's okay." _I think? I can't think. _"Actually, I'm sorry, I was gonna call you, but there's a Scooby meeting now, and I just found out like ten minutes ago, and I've got to go." She wiggled off the bench and stood awkardly. "I'll call you soon, okay? We can do this... We can do this some other time, okay?"

"Scooby?" Tara asked, looking up at Willow.

"Yeah, like, the Slaying crowd, you know? I guess Giles had a spell cast on him or something, anyway, really important, I have to go now." She turned quickly, and then turned back, thrusting something into Tara's hands. She paused, and then fled, throwing "Goodbye" over her shoulder.

Tara's parting word was swallowed by the ringing in Willow's ears. As soon as she rounded a corner, out of Tara's sight, she started running.

Willow sat on her bed, watching the sunlight from the window make its slow way across the wall. _It's kind of a perversion. Isn't it? _

Unbidden, the image of two women together sprang vividly to mind. Their limbs were tangled, breasts resting together, naked flesh touching... and what were they doing? She shook her head, shaking the image away. It left an imprint on her skull.

_This is what Tara is._ _She likes woman-lovin'. I wonder if she's ever... _Something angry twisted in her chest. _But she hasn't. The fairies..._ Relief spread through her body as she remembered. _Nobody had her... Nobody left her._ Unlike Willow.

_She said I was clean and pure. I don't _feel_ pure._ She rubbed her arms, wishing she could feel the grime under her fingers like her skin felt it, crawling, invading her. _He left himself all over me. I am suffocated by him. _She shuddered. _Tara's like clean air, after months of smog, smoke..._

Suddenly she flipped on the bed and turned on the radio, laying with her head on her arms. _KROQ. _They'll _cheer me up._ Her attempt at humor left her chest feeling empty.

She didn't recognize the song. Didn't like it very much. She was about to switch channels when it ended abruptly, and another replaced it. A Latin song, dark, with a flow and motion that brought Willow away from the room, into... a dark forest, trees with low-hanging branches, the sky barely visible through the foliage. She was lying, looking up at the stars.

The lead, sparkling in the darkness, was nothing like Oz's... _Oz..._ but it spoke. Louder than hard metal. Then a piano started talking, and Willow couldn't figure out what it was saying either... Something mournful, surely, but with a tint of happiness, a sort of... wild joy, but desperate, too. "I got a black magic woman," the singer informed Willow.

She grimaced and closed her eyes, blocking out the vision of the trees and stars. "She's tryin' to make a devil out of me." Tara was there. Willow grasped her face in the dark, pulled her body close. They were snakes in the grass, melded against each other, sinuous and sensual under the trees.

Willow felt arousal mix with the blood between her legs. _A devil? Not hardly._ _Tara saves me._

"Don't turn your back on me, baby..." She was crying now, soundlessly. _I don't think I could. I don't care if this is the scariest thing that's ever happened to me. _"You got your spell on me... I need you so bad, Magic Woman I can't leave you alone." _Can't leave her alone._

An erratic knock sounded on the dorm door. Willow flipped off the radio and opened it, wiping her eyes first.

On the other side was a girl Willow didn't recognize. She had black hair and very pale skin, and the tears in her eyes matched the ones now on Willow's hand. "She said I had to tell you-- She has the girl!" the girl burst out. "The, um, her name is Tara... she has her!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Big Bad

"Who?" Willow's face was blank.

"In that dorm north of campus. Um-" the girl's face blanked.

"Cheny dorm?" Willow was grabbing her jacket.

"Yeah. She says, you have to come alone, and work out a deal, and she'll let the witch go free."

"Tara?" Willow's mind was still trying to catch up.

"Yeah. I don't know what-- where..." Willow closed her door and guided the girl toward the stairs.

"She just said... told me..."

"Don't worry, it'll be alright." _Who has her? And _why_?_ "I need you to go call the cops."

"You know what room she's in?"

"Is it a dorm room? With black paint on the walls?"

"Yes. But I have to come with you."

Willow shook her head and started sprinting down the stairs. The girl didn't have a bike; she couldn't keep up anyway. And she'd only get in the way, if it was a big bad. Which it must be.

She took the hill the fastest she'd ever before, and reached Tara's dorm within two minutes. The building was quiet. Tara's door was locked, so she knocked on it.

"You want this?" The black-haired girl dangled a key before Willow's face. Willow started.

"How'd you get here?"

The girl opened the door. "I don't remember." She peeked into the room, which was unlit in the twilight. "There's the witch."

Tara was sprawled, apparently unconscious, on the bed. Her limbs were askew, as if they were boneless-- as if Tara was a rag doll. Willow's breath caught, and she remembered the last time she'd talked to her, remembered her frantic retreat, her judgment. Her final realization. _She looks... _Willow didn't finish that thought, her chest constricting in fear.

_There's the rose I gave her,_ Willow thought. _In a vase. _ Then she heard the door close behind her, and turned around to find she'd taken a few steps into the room without realizing it... seeing the girl stand in front of the door. She looked around-- nobody else in evidence.

Her and the girl.

_Crapo. _The girl was grinning. "Witches are delicious," she said. "Especially young, weak witches. _She_ was a witch, too." Confusion passed over the face, mixing weirdly with the horrible, twisted look the girl wore.

The confusion passed quickly, and the girl approached Willow, cupping her face in a hand. "Taken together, you are glazed witches." She made a growling sound.

_"Yeah." Willow allowed her stormy feelings to show in her face. "Except that was... I mean, exploding roses? Not in the agenda." Her face cleared. "You know what? Giles thought a demon was going to rise tonight. He was supposed to wreak destruction, and so on." She rolled her eyes. "Maybe there's some evil energy afoot tonight, or something! That interrupted us?"_

Willow's eyes shifted, avoiding the demon-glow in the girl's. "Look, actually, I'm the only witch here. In fact, I'm not even a witch either. See, I'm just really good at science, and there's this... compound?" The last word was a squeak, as the girl snaked her arm around the back of Willow's head and pulled her close, resting her forehead on Willow's chest.

_"I did feel something." Tara paused, her eyes wide. "A demon?"_

_Willow was momentarily annoyed. Every time she mentioned something supernatural, Tara reacted-- couldn't she just get used to it? _

_Suddenly she was ashamed of her annoyance. Tara was looking at her, waiting, still surprised and scared and... "Yeah, some demon-prince. Giles got me and Xander to help him defeat the demon, but when we got there, no demon in evidence. So... I came here," she abbreviated._

"I felt you. You woke me. I followed you here." The girl's voice was soft, and then she groaned softly. Willow, looking down in horror, saw little bits of light drifting from her chest to the girl's head. There was a beginning emptiness, the emptiness before intense pain.

_"But if it really was the demon that interrupted us, that means..."_

_"That maybe the demon was for real, and we just didn't see it!" The room suddenly felt much less comforting, and much more confining. Tara glanced at the windows._

_"Is that possible?" Tara asked quietly. _

_"Yeah. Though how it would get out of the--" A knock sounded at the door. "--the ground..."_

She raised her eyes, finding Tara's in the half-light. Tara was crouched in the corner--

_Tara shot Willow a terrified look. Willow shook her head, not understanding. Tara stepped close to Willow and whispered, "Feel the pulse of this room, then extend into the corridor. Something's making the corridor... really upset."_

_Willow tried, but she couldn't find the pulse, couldn't find the place in her own mind where she was aware of it. Her own tension, and Tara's breathing on her neck, and... the second knock on the door..._

_"Let's get out of here," Willow whispered, as the doorknob began shaking._

Willow pushed against the girl, but it was like the air had turned to molasses, or her muscles had turned to lead... she choked on the molasses in her lungs, trembled against the suffocation threatening her.

_Tara shook her head and crossed to the door. Willow was swept up in her wake, uncomprehending, as Tara opened the door wide._

_On the other side was a small-statured girl with very dark hair and wide eyes. "Hi," she said uncertainly. "Can I come in?" _

_Tara nodded and moved out of the way, shooting Willow a look as the girl crossed the threshold. _Not a vampire,_ Willow confirmed, but Tara held her eye a second longer than something as simple as that. _

There was black on the edges of her vision. She wondered who had asked if she could come in. _Come in where? Where am I?_ "Tara," Willow whispered.

_Willow closed her eyes and frantically tried to find the pulse again, but it continued to evade her. She heard the door close, and the girl's voice had changed. "You two are witches," she hissed._

_"Yes," Tara said. Willow opened her eyes and saw that Tara was standing between Willow and the girl. _

_"Witches are delicious," the girl said, her voice full of malicious intent. She circled around so she could see both of them, and when Tara tried to stay in front of Willow the girl gestured, sending Tara flying into a bookcase. "She was a witch, too." Confusion passed over the face, mixing weirdly with the horrible, twisted look the girl wore._

_The confusion passed quickly, and the girl approached Willow, cupping her face in a hand. "Glazed witches." She made a growling sound. _

_Willow's eyes shifted, avoiding the demon-glow in the girl's. "Look, actually, I'm the only witch here. In fact, I'm not even a witch either. See, I'm just really good at science, and there's this... compound?" The last word was a squeak, as the girl snaked her arm around the back of Willow's head and pulled her close, resting her forehead on Willow's chest._

_"I followed you here." The girl's voice was soft, and then she groaned softly. Willow, looking down in horror, saw little bits of light drifting from her chest to the girl's head. There was a beginning emptiness._

_She raised her eyes, finding Tara's in the half-light. _

Crouched in the corner...

Lying on the bed...

A rag doll.

Behind the girl,

Knife

Book

_Bat_ in hand. Hand on shoulder.

The pressure was released. Willow breathed deep, staggering backward,

_I can breathe_A loud smackAnd againA weight falling_I can't breathe._

But Willow could.

After a moment, she raised her head. She was on the ground. Her head was pounding, but she went up on her knees and peered around the room. There was nobody around. She relaxed a little, and as a result her head hurt more.

She stood shakily and revised her earlier assessment. There _was_ somebody here. On the bed. _Tara. How'd she get there?_

Willow staggered over to the bed. "Are you okay?" she whispered, touching Tara's arm, dropping to her knees. "Hey, Tara," she said more forcefully, and then felt her body slouch into the bed, down to the floor.

Then she was lifted up, and placed on something hard but soft, giving a little, and she felt a feather touch on her cheek. She opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the light. The second was the way the light dove into Tara's eyes, which were looking at her softly, in concern. "What happened?" Willow asked, shifting her body a little and feeling how leaden it was still.

"I don't really know," Tara said. "I'm glad you're alright, though."

"You, too," Willow said, confused. "You looked... hurt... and then you saved me! And then you were back... to where you were before... and..."

"Yes," Tara said, and then she took Willow's hand and kissed it softly. A little glowing warmth spread from that point to Willow's chest. As Tara released her, Willow grabbed Tara's hand and brought it up to her mouth. She kissed it three times in return, softly, without really realizing what she was doing-- only what she felt, and what she wanted.

Tara walked Willow back to her dorm, pausing to rest twice. When they reached the dorm, Willow grasped Tara's hand to say goodbye, and it was a few moments before she could bring herself to release it.

Then she turned quickly and unlocked the door to her dorm, and opened it halfway. When she turned around, Tara was already walking away, down the corridor.

Willow closed the door softly behind her.


End file.
